


Peek-A-Boo

by ElloMenoP



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Fire, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 00:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5607151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElloMenoP/pseuds/ElloMenoP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My second secret santa gift! Pyro is fascinated with the man they repeatedly set on fire. Who is he, under the mask? Why is he so sneaky? Where does he come from and go when he vanishes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peek-A-Boo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [grimmauxillatrix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimmauxillatrix/gifts).



Pyro liked games.

They liked them a lot. All day they’d try to play games with the others, lots of hide and seek, for some reason they were always it, but seeking was fun. Especially when they found somebody and they got to shower them with confetti or bubbles. But that game got pretty old pretty quick. No one ever wanted to find them, and if they did, they’d always run away.

Pyro needed a new game to play. They tried to ‘shoots and ladders’ for awhile, sending his friends high into the air with a compressed air blast, or sending them falling over a cliff edge. That was real fun! Hearing them scream and shout all the way down! Then they accidentally sent a Demo right into their Soldier’s rocket jump and well…they weren’t allowed to play that game anymore.

They tried getting a game night together at the base. Only Medic participated. They played operation, but Pyro didn’t like how much better Medic was at it so they hastily ended the night, ripping stitches out of their arm and grabbing gauze on the way out. It was so hard to come up with games that other people wanted to join in on.

It wasn’t until one fateful battle that they accidentally stumbled upon the most fun game they ever played.

They were just doing their job. Helping Engineer keep his sentries safe, just meandering around puffing flames from their weapon. Then the blank space before them filled up with a Spy. It took them off delightfully off guard, like a magic trick. Nothing up my sleeve and then— Shrieking Spy!

They couldn’t help the laughter from bubbling up as the Spy was revealed in billows of black smoke and burning flesh. Dancing around, perhaps just as excited as Pyro to have been found out, to have a new game to play.

Without thinking a phrase tumbled out of Pyro’s mouth, muffled by their gas mask but still coherent, “Mmphh-a-mphoo!”

They were lost in hysterics, and the Spy was lost to respawn. It wasn’t until a few minutes later that Engineer came across the unsettling sight of Pyro laughing uncontrollably over a charred body that they began to regain composure. Engineer politely smiled and offered a, “Good work, partner, keep it up.” Before backing off entirely and tending to his machines.

To them, that was all the authorization they needed. They spent the entirety of the match running around, flames licking the air around them until they ran out of ammunition, or better, found Spy. It was hard though, like finding a needle in a hay stack. Most of the battle was spent searching for propane, they only could catch glimpses of the enemy Spy far across the map, light bouncing off his knife right before he killed their Medic.

Pyro sighed. This was going to be a hard game.

It was truly taxing, on Pyro, on Spy, and on both of their teams. Pyro’s sole objective became finding and exposing Spy. Spy’s only goal was to stay alive and remain uncooked, or at worst, a nice medium rare. And both their teams suffered from either mercenary’s diverted attentions. Engineer’s nests were rarely guarded, though, with Spy on the defensive he seldom found the opportunity to sap even a dispenser.

“Pyro, buddy, please I’m begging you,” Engineer would try, “you gotta stay on track, you gotta air blast rockets— no, not me!”

The Texan backed off, hands up to show no harmful intentions. It seemed unnecessary, as Pyro was more interested in alighting the air around him.

“Pyro, come on, we got intelligence to capture—” Engineer was interrupted for a second time, however it was the pained screams from the enemy Spy that stopped him short.

It didn’t take too long for Pyro to burn the man to a crisp, until his skin was blacken char, cracking open to reveal raw, pink flesh. They were overjoyed, it had been nearly four battles since he’d found the Spy and finally, finally, they got the chance to mumble, “Mmph-a-mphoo!”

Engineer took a moment to keep his lunch down, but eventually approached the Pyro. “Yeah, see that’s good and all, son, but there’s other enemies that need killin’ and—and you’re gone.”

Pyro took off, eager to find the Spy once again. It was always harder the second time around. They’d try to check the places Spy would most likely be at, around sentries or the intelligence, or creeping behind Medic. There were just too much open ground to cover, they nearly never got him more than twice, and it was getting harder and harder to get close to his record.

-

-

-

Far off on the other side of the map, in the middle of BLU’s respawn, Spy was having a nervous breakdown. Shaking hands struggled to find cigarettes, and even after he finally managed to pull one out, the sight of the tiny flame emanating from his lighter sent him into hysterics. He dropped the lighter to the ground making a loud clatter and drawing the attention of his team mates.

Heavy, in some semblance of reassurance, put his meaty hand on Spy’s shoulder and asked, “Are you man or mouse? Go fight.”

Spy’s lips trembled a few times before he exploded, “Man or mouse?! I am a matchstick! To that maniac I am nothing but kindling! It won’t leave me be!”

“Well, what the hell did’ya do to it, crouton?” Scout asked, half interested, tossing his bat in the air like a baton.

“Nothing! That hideous creature has a vendetta against me for no reason!”

Scout missed a beat and his bat hit the floor, rolling over to Spy’s lighter. “Wait, hideous? Have you seen that thing without its mask on? Is it an alien?”

The runner suddenly found great intrigue in Spy’s problem, and made his way over to the Frenchman’s face.

“How many eyes does it got?”

Spy’s face flashed from fear to annoyance in an instant. “Can we focus on me?”

“No.” Heavy’s stern, hard voice shut down both men. “We must focus on intelligence. Spy, do not be baby.”

“You’re not going to help me?” Spy spat back.

“Sounds like a personal problem,” Medic dryly replied, not a single ounce of sympathy in his tone. “Heavy?”

The two nodded at each other, ready to take on the RED team and salvage the mission. Heavy revved his minigun and Medic focused his healing beam on the giant. With a final look back, Heavy said over his massive shoulder, “We do not need leetle Spy to get intelligence.”

The jab was enough to grab Scout’s attention back, and the runner snatched his bat up from the floor. “Yeah, hell, you don’t even need this whole team to get it. I can get it all by myself.”

That made the Heavy snort, a smile tugging at his lips.

“What, you don’t think I can’t? Watch me! I’ll bet my paycheck on it!”

Heavy rumbled as all three men began advancing out of the respawn, Spy barely caught the Russian’s response, “Heavy is tired of taking leetle man’s money, but Sasha needs new bed.”

So that was that. Spy was on his own to defend himself from the crazed arsonist. He racked this brain for reasons why the Pyro had it out for him. Perhaps he insulted the thing somehow, some strange cultural misunderstanding that lead to an insane revenge plot. Or maybe the thing was part guard dog and had finally been trained to keep out backstabbing Spies. Spy sighed, it could be nothing at all, or all of those things combined. There was no telling what was happening behind that mask.

“I must end this…” Spy resigned.

He bent down and grabbed his lighter. With renewed purpose and a nicotine boost, Spy set out to face the Pyro. It wasn’t hard to find the little firebug. The damned thing was basically a sparkler with legs. The only problem was, with Pyro being so unfocused, he was an easy target. Every time Spy came close to the mercenary it’d end up blown to pieces or fell victim to a headshot. It was odd, the only time Spy wanted to come face to face with the monster and he couldn’t get within one hundred yards of them. Although, Spy would be lying if he said he wasn’t somewhat relieved. He had a feeling his confrontation was going to end in literal flames.

It took some time, but eventually Spy gave in and resorted to waiting cloaked outside of RED’s respawn. He watched the enemy Heavy rush out, and a few minutes later, the matching Medic go sprinting after him. For a while there was no activity aside from a Scout flying in and out of the spawn. And then, a pair of heavy, black boots calmly exited. Spy could feel those footfalls in his chest, thumping harder than his heart. It took all of his willpower but he actually reached out and grabbed the maniac.

Both mercenary’s reaction was so drastically different. Spy, cautious and fearful, yet determined to end his torment. He hauled the Pyro aside, away from the battle and tried to signal surrender. Pyro, was overjoyed at having found the Spy so easily. As a matter of fact, they were thrilled that the Spy found them. Their enthusiasm apparent in their jittery legs, and gentle pumping of their flamethrower. A happy giggled poured from their gas mask.

They were just about ready to make the Spy disappear again when the Frenchman held up both hands and begged, “Wait!”

Pyro cocked their head to the side. Spy never really said anything before, mostly screamed. They wondered…a flex of fingers told the Spy to go on.

Carefully, Spy nodded and went to speak. “Please, what is it, why are you—”

Pyro interjected quickly enough, “Mmph, mmph, mmph.”

It was almost a sing-song tone, the kind that a mother would use to gently scold her child. Spy’s eyes narrowed, confused.

Pyro supplied the words they wanted out of the assassin, “Mmph-a-mphoo!”

Spy’s face contorted between bewilderment, anger, and disgust. “Peek-a…this is all a game to you?”

Rage took over, shaking Spy’s shoulders and turning his hands to fists. This whole time that crazed lunatic was toying with him! The endless torment was just a game! Just amusement! Spy wasn’t sure if he was more angry at being treated like a play date, or having been seriously traumatized by the pyromaniac.

None of this registered with the Pyro. All they wanted was the magic of seeing Spy disappear again. And then reappear. And then disappear. And so on and so forth until the trick became too boring for even the Pyro’s twisted mind.

Pyro lifted their weapon to show that the game was moving on. Spy crossed his arms childishly and said, “I don’t want to play.”

Pyro’s shoulders slumped, head hanging low. Yet, Spy could see the makings of a tantrum, their fingers gripping tighter around the frame of their flamethrower, muscles going rigid, the big sigh that escaped their mask.

Soon he’d have to deal with an angry Pyro. And if the Pyro he’d been encountering over the past few weeks had been a playful one, he shuddered to think what an angry one would be like. Thinking fast, Spy fell back on a tried and true plan, redirection.

“You know, our Scout just loves games,” he gently persuaded.

Pyro cocked their head again, interested at the thought of a new play partner.

Cautiously, Spy stepped in closer, slowly pushing the flamethrower down and reaching for Pyro’s axe.

“Yes, Scout really loves tag. Do you know how to play tag?”

The Pyro shook their head.

“All you have to do,” Spy held up the axe, “is give Scout a good hit. Make it two, hell, make it three.”

Pyro happily accepted the weapon and the rules. Even though there was no way of telling, Spy was certain there was a large grin beneath the blank gas mask, and that thought left him with a disturbing feeling, even as the Pyro skipped off.

**Author's Note:**

> This kinda reeked of ‘disturbing cute’ and well, there you go.


End file.
